Every Night
by Lioness Black
Summary: [PostRent. MarkRoger.] Just the typical life.


Title: Every Night   
Author: Lioness Black   
Pairing: Mark/Roger  
Rating: PG13   
Genre: General/Fluffy   
Summary: Just the typical life.  
Notes: Written for seriouslyrent and also for100situations prompt 087, Nocturnal.  
Spoilers: Post-Rent  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just good fun.

* * *

Mark wakes up in an empty bed. Well, it's not really empty. He's in it. And so are several blankets, and pillows. The first thing Mark notices when he wakes up is that Roger isn't there, and therefore the bed feels empty. 

He gets out of bed, pulling his pajama pants up around his waist as he does. Somehow while he slept, as he tossed and turned, they slid down around his hips. With his other hand, he grabs his glasses off the night stand, flips open the earpieces with one thumb, and sets the black plastic on his face.

Mark walks out of the bedroom and across the living room into the kitchen. Roger is sitting at the table, spreading margarine over a piece of toast. Mark gives him a lazy kiss on the cheek and then pours himself a cup of coffee.

"We should get the Sunday paper," Roger says. "Do the crossword puzzle."

Mark stares at him for a moment and then looks down at his mug. He levels off a spoonful of powdered creamer and pours it into his coffee. He gives it a stir, turning it a strange brown color. He looks back up at Roger. "It's not Sunday."

"It's not?"

"It's still Saturday. It won't be Sunday for another three hours." Mark pauses, as he sips his coffee. "I don't think the paper comes out right at midnight."

"No shit," Roger mumbles. He pulls the crusts off his toast. He leaves them on the paper towel he's using as a plate. Once all the crusts are gone, he begins to eat the toast.

Mark sits down next to Roger and picks up the crusts and eats them. They've been doing that for years. The kissing and sharing a bed is new.

Going to bed at noon and sleeping until nine at night is also new. Roger started it with a change in his medication, or at least that's what he attributes it to. Mark quickly adapted.

Mark doesn't really like the new schedule. Time passes faster at night. But time would pass even faster if he missed Roger during the day, so he never complains. He has to hold onto the time he has.

"Well," Roger says, "once we're well into Sunday, we should get a paper and do the crossword."

"I don't know why you're dead set on doing the crossword puzzle. You hate it. You get three answers and then you throw it down," Mark replies.

"I do _not_."

"Five, then."

"You want something else other than bread crust?" Roger asks in a hasty subject change. "We have oatmeal. And... um..."

"Maybe we should go grocery shopping?" Mark suggests.

"Do we have any money for grocery shopping?"

"Of course. You know, you could look at a bank statement sometime. It's not depressing."

Roger gives Mark a look. "Yes, it is. I don't like it."

There are very few ways to manage to eat, pay the rent, and buy AZT, film, guitar strings, and soap if you don't have a proper job. One of these ways, though, is to go onto welfare. It's easy enough when you convince the government the Roger can't work because of his illness (only partly true), and Mark has to take care of him (true, but not in the way he made it seem).

Roger hates it. Mark hates it too, but he understands the reality of their situation. You can only be an idealist for so long.

"Not now. It's late for that," Mark says. He takes another sip of his coffee. It's finally cool enough to drink in more than tentative sips. "In the morning. We can get the paper too."

Roger sighs. "Mark, when did we become lame?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's nine-thirty on a Saturday night and we're having toast and coffee. We should be at a concert. Or, or, a club or something. We could go to a _bar_. When was the last time we went to a bar?"

"It's been a while."

"Why aren't we at a bar?"

"For one thing, I haven't brushed my teeth."

"You know what I mean."

Mark shrugs. "I don't know. Do you want to go to a bar? I can brush my teeth. I probably should anyway."

Roger smiles for a moment, and it fades. "I don't want to go to a bar. I'm okay with this. I'm content. That's why I'm lame. Because I'm okay just spending time with you."

"Spending time with me is lame?"

"No! That's not-" Roger starts, but then he notices the smirk on Mark's face. His shoulders droop. "I hate you when you're smarter than me."

"Then what's with all the kissing?" Mark says, leaning in.

Roger obviously knows he's been insulted, but he ignores it and kisses Mark anyway. He pulls away. "You do need to brush your teeth."

"Jackass," Mark says as he stands. He presses a quick kiss against Roger's forehead and walks to the bathroom, taking his coffee with him.

Roger eats the rest of his toast, leaving the one strip of crust that's left on the paper towel. He can hear the water running in the bathroom, and he knows that Mark is flossing and being generally anal about his dental hygiene. Roger knows better than to tease him about it, as to avoid a long winded speech about toothpaste being cheaper than a trip to the dentist.

Roger wonders where Mark put his coffee, and what he expects to do with it while he's using generic mouth wash.

Shrugging to himself, Roger takes _his_ coffee over into the living room. He sets the mug down on the table, and stretches out on the couch. His eyes close, though he's not tired. He can't help the smile that crosses his lips when he feels the new weight lowering onto the couch, on top of him. He wraps his arms around Mark, and smiles more as his lips are kissed.

Roger doesn't like sex. Well, that's not true, nor is it even close to being true. Roger is no longer comfortable having sex. He spends so much time ensuring the that condoms are intact, and time after replaying it in his mind with worry, to make sure all went well, that he doesn't really enjoy himself.

Mark wishes Roger wouldn't worry so much. They're as careful as they can be, and Mark is aware of the risks. He misses sex, and he likes sex with Roger quite a bit, but would probably enjoy it even more if Roger were enjoying himself.

It's a bit of a vicious cycle.

Roger does like kissing. He likes the way lips feel against lips, and tongues against lips, and tongues against tongues (not so fond of lips against tongues, that doesn't really work). He likes the way hands move through hair, whether it be his hands or his hair, when kissing occurs. He likes kissing, he's damn good at it, and he'll tell just that if you ask. He'll have Mark tell you too, if you're still unconvinced.

Mark likes kissing too. Not nearly as much as Roger does, but he would never turn down kisses.

Mark tastes minty and sweet. Roger tastes like coffee. Roger always tastes like coffee.

"You want to have sex?" Roger mumbles into Mark's mouth. One hand is in Mark's hair. The other is cradling his back.

"No, this is good." Mark understands.

"How about I blow you?" Roger feels bad about it.

"No, this is good." Mark doesn't like how one sided a blow job is. He doesn't like this annoying erection. He doesn't like Roger feeling guilty. He doesn't like Roger worried.

There is no right answer.

There is no wrong answer.

There's only the answer you choose.

And they go through it every night.


End file.
